MORE ABOUT MY FEATHERED FRIENDS. 89 



we need not waste sympathy upon the Fish-hawk, espe- 

 cially as he in turn has none for the poor defenceless 

 water-fowl. He pounces upon them while they are 

 harmlessly disporting themselves on the pools of water 

 just opened out between the masses of floating ice in the 

 lake this warm April day. Happy creatures ! They are 

 heedless of the watchful eye of their enemy hovering 

 above them, ready to descend with hooked beak and 

 sharp talons upon the fairest and plumpest of the flock. 



Silly birds ! Why don't they look up instead of 

 enjoying their bath, or standing in groups on the edge 

 of the ice, preening their feathers and indulging in idle 

 gossip with their neighbors, or preparing themselves 

 for a fresh plunge^ in the water, a luxury so long 

 denied them by the rigors of winter? 



There! What a wild commotion ensues when at last 

 they become aware of the proximity of their enemy, as 

 he makes a sudden descent and bears off a duck or a 

 young goose in his terrible talons! How they rise en 

 masse on clamorous wing, and wheel and fly from his 

 dread presence ! 



Possibly he might have preferred a bass or a perch, or 

 a big sucker, had such a prize been more available, but 

 " all is fish or fowl that comes to his net," and a delicate 

 duck or gosling is not to be despised ; so he is content 

 with what he has taken, and flies off to some quieter 

 spot, out of sight and hearing of the noisy crew he has 

 outraged, to take his meal in thankfulness. The water- 



